The Days of the Week are Alive
by That Star In The Sky
Summary: "Um, hi. I'm Monday. It's not just a name my parents gave me; I literally /am/ Monday. I'm the personification of that day of the week." The days of the week are alive. How we view them affects their personalities. They're all like a family and have been around for centuries. Read on if you want to know the troubles you will run into if you were an immortal representation with craz


H-hey! I'm Monday. Yeah, you read that correctly. It's not a name my parents gave to me; I literally /am/ Monday, the day of the week that is after Sunday and before Tuesday. Don't tell anyone I said that though, for some reason they think it sounds like I'm suggesting we're having a threesome, ew!  
We're the personifications of the days of the week! It's nice. I mean, we're immortal. We were born prior to 600 BCE! They didn't take very long to come up with a calendar so here we are! We just popped up one day. No one exactly knows how we came to be. We don't have any parents, just each other. We're like family though we can actually date and stuff without it being weird, heh heh. Wait, I lied. The months and the years. They're basically our parental figures, though we don't see them that often. I like them though Saturday, Wednesday and Thursday aren't fond of them very much. I really care for January since me and him are alike! Most humans hate us... Him because he brings unfulfilled New Year's Resolutions and the bitter cold, me because school and jobs resume on my day. I try to not let it get to me, but it's hard. Everyone loathes me for something their governments are responsible for. I don't want the mortals to resume work on my day. But it's okay! Almost everyone is nice to me and I'm pretty sure my 'family' doesn't hate me! Yeah, everything is alright...  
Uh oh, I'm doing it again. Sorry! I should explain further huh? Us days have the appearance of teenagers, I look the youngest, I seem to be thirteen years old. The months are basically our parents and appear to be in their twenties. The years are practically our grandparents. We see them even less often than we do for the months. Their appearances differentiate. Have you ever met those people who are obsessed with a certain time period? Like someone who dresses as a hippie or someone obsessed with World War 2? Yeah, they're probably the personification of years. It's weird. There are plenty though I haven't met them all. Some represent one century, or one decade, or one year. If a lot happened in one time period then the more representations of them there will be. It also shapes their personalities. If they're from centuries ago they're really old fashioned and mean! If they're from an era of war they're violent and usually psychopathic. It's scary to see! Don't tell them I said this but I'm glad I don't see them that often! A few are calm and nice though.  
Sorry, this must be a lot to take in! Don't worry, for the most part you'll only be hearing about the days; only seven people to learn. If I discussed all the representations you'd have to remember hundreds upon thousands of people! Blame the years for that.  
Oh shoot, it's almost midnight! That means it's Tuesday's turn to introduce themself. Tuesday is genderfluid. One day they will identify and dress as a boy, the next they will dress and identify as a girl. It makes using pronouns confusing. Anyways, goodbye, it was nice meeting you! I'll see you next week.

You already know who I am so I shall not introduce myself. Honestly, I do not see why Monday thought this was a good idea. She thinks that we could drop dead at any given moment and she wants the humans to know of our legacy. Too bad no one would believe a word of what we are saying. No matter, I am merely writing this to pass the time. I am glad no one but you will be seeing this.  
I've always been the analytical one so I shall try to clear everything up for you, my dear reader. Monday did an adequate job of explaining the basics; however, I think it is paramount that I go into more depth.  
My name is Tuesday but I am also Dienstag, Mardi, Τρίτη, вторник, Martes, Tirsdag, 火曜日, etc.  
How you humans view the days of the week affects our personalities and physical appearances. You detest Monday, which greatly affects her self esteem. Thanks a lot, imbeciles, but I have neither the patience or time for a battle of wits with unarmed men, so I shall continue. On Monday you are tired, which causes you to look pale. Monday is pale and has bags under her eyes. You can see where I am going with this. Monday is petite, she has a fair complexion, has her ears pierced, wears glasses, appears to be an Asian yet has eyes the colour of chocolate and is a brunette. She hates herself but she tries to hide it. Everyone likes her since she is a pleasant person to be around. She is softspoken and kind, though occasionally she experiences random outbursts of anger at the most minuscule things since people get rather irritated during that day of the week. She usually wears pastels, skirts or dresses, flats and puts her hair in a braid. She appears to be thirteen. Since we live ordinary lives, we need an alias that will not raise eyebrows. That is why we have human names. Monday's is Ayame Hashimoto.  
I am Tuesday, as I have previously mentioned. Monday is correct, I am genderfluid. She has already provided an explanation so I shall not be redundant and will discuss the next topic about myself. I too wear a (thick) pair of spectacles. I am a bit on the chubby side. I am fairly tall and my dirty blond(e) hair is cut short. My emerald eyes apparently look cold and dead and I cannot help but agree. My style is quite capricious. I might wear jeans, a white t-shirt, sneakers and a beanie; I might wear a dress with heels and pumps; it depends. You cannot call me a male or female because I am not just one. I will not be labelled, nor stick to your superficial social conventions of making my gender define me. That is why I will not confide in the sex I was 'born' as. Besides, not knowing won't affect your opinion on me. Boy or girl, it is my soul that should be your solitary reason for judging. My human age is fifteen. My other name is Emory Smith. I ensured that I have a unisex name.  
I have already said in the beginning of my chapter that I am analytical. Not to brag or anything, but I am also these things: Intelligent, calm, reasonable, hopeful, honest and philosophical. Why? Because Tuesday is when the fatigue of Monday wears off and you are feeling a bit better. The fog on your brain dissipates and suddenly you can think much more clearly. You are also eagerly anticipating Friday but know that you have a long way to go.  
My motto is 'It is better to be hurt by the truth than comforted by a lie.'  
Tuesday is not a special day. It is not hated nor doted upon, it has always just...been there. So am I. Whether it be the other days of the week or mortals, no one particularly cares about me (I told you I am honest). All I wish to do in my long life is to gain as much information as I can. I do not need love from others, I assure you I am content with spending my time in isolation. Books are all the company I need. Whether it is mortals or my 'family,' becoming close is useless. Tell me, what is the purpose of befriending someone only to have them die in a century? All of us days, years and months have made the mistake of doing this. We try to avoid humans at all costs now. It hurts less that way. Even so, the mere fact that the other personifications cannot die offers little consolation. We are the same as you. We may not perish but we feel. Books cannot become spiteful at you, books cannot hurt you, you cannot hurt books. All they do is quench your thirst for knowledge. That is why I love them. All right, perhaps I may love something-someone-else, but the odds are not in my favour.  
Wednesday is not someone you would want to get close to. He is outgoing, bubbly and optimistic. Ten minutes later he will act the exact opposite and you will think he is a demon from hell. He is bipolar. Explanation: When Wednesday rolls around, your spirits lift since you know Friday is nearly here, but your good mood leaves once you realize how long it seems. You are happy yet upset on Wednesday. When will you be free? You are so close, but then again, you are not. That is the reason for his personality. Concerning his looks, he is neither short nor tall. He is what you would call a 'ginger.' His eyes are practically every colour depending on the lighting. His hair goes down to his neck. His typical outfit is track pants, running shoes and graphic t-shirts. His human age is fourteen, his alias is Connor Kirkland. Oh, and one other fact I failed to mention until now. You humans refer to Wednesday as 'hump day' since it's the middle of the week and it's like climbing over a hill, a hump, and getting to the good stuff. Well, because of this little nickname, it has affected him, and not in a good way. I cannot stress enough how irritating it is to have him constantly hump everything! He has already humped his cat, a tree, us at least a dozen times, an elderly lady off the street and a police officer. It did not end well.  
Thursday is practically Friday Jr. The two are quite similar though I actually like her. She is extremely happy and optimistic. She has lengthy hair the hue of a raven, amethyst eyes that perpetually glisten, a smile that could melt ice, a large chest, plenty of curves, and is on the tall side. Her and Friday are very close though Friday does not deserve her. She smiles often and is optimistic because you cannot help but be excited that the weekdays are over and because Friday is near. On her driver's license it says she is sixteen years old and that her name is Dana Raymond.  
Friday is the definition of a partygoer. All he does is become intoxicated, ramble on about parties and how awesome he is. You all love Friday so much that it has gotten to his head, so thanks a lot, now we are stuck with an obnoxious narcissist. He has gelled black hair, tan skin, grey eyes, lots of muscles, always wears khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirts, and has teeth so white they will blind you upon sight. He identifies as an eighteen year old. His name is Frank Lopez.  
Saturday is, to put it bluntly, a bitch. She is the female version of Friday but ten times worse. Think of the popular sluts at your school. She is exactly like that. Her and Friday get along and used to be in a relationship but alas, t'is was not meant to be. She is a blondie, obviously. Wears tons of makeup, has a fake pair of D cups, always wears short shorts and crop tops, spreads rumours, insults others, has sex often and thinks she is amazing. You humans go on dates and love Saturday so she is a skank and is even more self-absorbed and narcissistic than Friday. She is seventeen and her name is Britney Torres.  
And last but certainly not least, Sunday. Sunday is the biggest procrastinator you will ever meet. He is laid back, religious and very irresponsible but has a warm heart, though he also can suffer from random bouts of depression because on Sunday you have to finish your homework last minute and usually get to relax, but also dread the fact that Monday is tomorrow. He is kind to the rest of us but is particularly sassy to Wednesday; I suppose that is his twisted way of showing affection. He is fairly short, has tresses that are spiky and brown, seemingly black eyes and has skin the colour of cocoa. He wears a lot of pyjamas and baggy clothing. He is fifteen. He also goes by Jabari Brown.  
And that, my dear reader, is a basic summary of the seven of us. I am not finished yet. I apologize for such a long chapter, I must be leaving you with a horrible first impression, but you will thank me later. I bet no one else will try and explain anything to you.  
We are almost always with each other. We live nearby and often get together. Everyone has had centuries to get to know everyone. Some of us have dated one another at least once but the record for the longest relationship is sixty years, which is pathetic considering how old we are. We all have our favourite person. Friday and Saturday are inseparable, as are Friday and Thursday, Wednesday and Sunday, etc. Sunday is like a worrisome yet wise mother to Saturday, I am like a parent to everyone. I would have to say I am closest to Monday. I wish I knew Thursday better.  
I know you probably want to ship us now so I will make things easier and tell you our sexualities so you can write all the gay porn you want.  
Monday = pansexual (no, she is not attracted to pans)  
Me = asexual (sex is horrendous)  
Wednesday = heterosexual  
Thursday = homosexual (lesbian)  
Friday = bisexual  
Saturday = questioning (either heterosexual or bisexual)  
Sunday = homosexual (gay)  
You're welcome. I do not know if our sexual preferences are the way they are because it is somehow related to what humans do during that day (for example, on Friday you usually get drunk and may kiss your best friend or your preferred gender, so maybe that is why Friday is bisexual). It is one of my theories I have been unable to prove.  
We do not know how we came to be. We all remember waking up one day, millenia ago. We aged normally and then we stopped altogether. We appear to be thirteen-eighteen years old and have been this way for centuries. We live our lives like any normal human being though we have seen and experienced things over the years we would rather not discuss. No one knows we exist and we would prefer it stay that way. Well, Saturday wants the world to know so she can be even more loved, but the rest are content with you humans being oblivious to our existence.  
There is something else that separates us from humans. How we get sick and injured. If you fall down eight flights of stairs or get impaled, you will take an excruciatingly long time to heal, whereas we would be completely recovered in less than ten minutes. I have more to tell. If a huge catastrophic event occurs on a certain day of the week, one of us will suffer. The 9/11 bombings were taken place on a Tuesday. As soon as the first building had the airplane crash into it I fell to my knees in pain. I was severely burned, in unimaginable pain and was bedridden for a month. We have all experienced injuries like this dozens of times throughout our lives. Another example is Friday. On Friday April 26 2002 the Erfurt massacre transpired. Friday had dozens upon dozens of bullet holes on every part of his body. I do not like him but it still was horrible to watch. Everyone became fearful and frantic. There were no bullets in his body though the injuries you would acquire from being shot were there. All we could do was try and comfort him as he sobbed and let out bloodcurdling screams for two days. We are now more prepared if something like this happens. We have as many pain-numbing medication as a hospital would have. The months and years suffer from this too, though it is a lot worse for them. Luckily, this does not happen very often and we are healthy most of the time. Tragedies happen so very often; we do experience a slight pain for a moment if more than ten people are murdered by the same person or group in a day, but we have gotten used to this. There is a piece to the puzzle no individual has been able to find. Sometimes, ten people can be slain and we will be unable to move from the devastating wounds we acquire. Other times, hundreds of people can be killed on our day, and we will remain unscathed. We never know when we will become hurt if something happens. We live in constant paranoia because of this. I do not know why there is no pattern as to when we will be negatively affected by the barbaric actions you humans commit.  
We have also lived in just about every corner of the globe. We cannot stay in one location for too long or people will get suspicious as to why we are not aging. I love every country we stayed in, and believe me, there is a lot, but I would have to say that Canada and Greece are my favourite places. We know many languages because of this.  
Being unable to die is bittersweet. It is comforting to know no matter what, you have no reason to fear death, yet you also have a small part of you that just wants it all to end. Sometimes living for so long becomes torturous. No matter what suffering you endure, you cannot die and free yourself from the pain and boredom.  
Would you look at that. I am out of time.  
It has been a pleasure to get acquainted with you, however, it is time for me to say farewell.

Hey there! What's up? I'm Wednesday, duh. WOW YOU'RE SO COOL WOW THAT WAS FUNNY, MAN.  
…Yeah, I don't know what to write. WHAT ELSE IS NEW?  
Monday said we should do this but what's the point. No one can say no to her though, she's too cute. OHONHONHON~ She said we're all taking turns to talk about I don't even know what. We making sure we leave a piece of us behind in case we die someday. Good, I don't want to have lived to be considered a dinosaur but have no one know about me! Until then I don't want people knowing who I am. IF THEY DID THEY WOULD RIOT AND KILL YOU IN TWO DAYS SO I AGREE.  
I've never been good at literature stuff, or sounding smart in general. So I asked THE SEXY, AMAZING, PERFECT Sunday to edit this once I finish writing. He and Monday are the only ones I can trust with reading my stuff. So if I have good spelling and grammar and randomly say some big words you'll know why. I really hope he doesn't make his own little comments in here but knowing Sunday he's gonna be opinionated as fuck. YOU KNOW IT, BITCH! He's a cool guy though so I can look past that. HOORAY. I'm sure the other days that can't write very well will ask someone else to edit or help them though they would never admit it. I kind of wish I could see everyone's entries so I could laugh at how perfect their spelling is when in reality… Well, let's just say Friday asked me how to spell 'stop' once. HE DID? OH MY GOD. Saturday, Friday and me are better with speaking words than writing words down.  
What to say...  
Hey! I got something. Two deers walk out of a gay bar. One says, "I can't believe I blew thirty bucks." Ha, get it? Thirty male deers got a blowjob from the dude! THAT'S THE MILLIONTH TIME YOU'VE SAID THAT. Ooh ooh, wanna hear another one? NO. What is something that not even the strongest of men can hold for longer than a few minutes? Their breath! KILL ME NOW.  
Okay guess what. So today me and the rest of the days decided to watch a movie at my house. My home is really big, it's like the ultimate bachelor pad. UM, NO. Over the many years I've had a lot of jobs so I've saved up a ton of dough and I have a great place now. Jealous? NO. All of us are loaded and it's pretty sweet. So we were watching some good action movie and just when it was getting good, Friday started to ruin it. Dang, we can never have a normal time for long. He started talking real loud and I couldn't fucking hear the goddamn movie, that alcoholic bastard! I wanted to take my bag of popcorn and shove it down his throat to shut him up! OKAY THEN. Just when the badass main character is about to pummel the bad guy, the asshole randomly yelled, "Yo Wednesday, where's the beer?" My eye twitched but told him where it was; in the fridge, duh. All the others say I'm bipolar which is total bullshit so I was trying to prove them wrong. YOU ARE, ACCEPT IT ALREADY. He went and raided through my kitchen and brought out not one, not two, but three bottles! Is he right in the head? NO. WE'VE KNOWN THAT FOR AGES. He started gulping them down as fast as you would give someone a blowjob. Then that Saturday, the little dick pickle, snatched a bottle from him and drank too. Beer doesn't grow on trees you know! I don't even look the required age to purchase alcohol so it's hard to get. I don't even drink the stuff, I just have some for the others (Friday). Monday was looking real embarrassed since she was sitting next to him, and he was starting to get wasted. He put his ugly arm around her and gave her this creepy smile. I wanted to bash his head into a wall. How dare he make Monday uncomfortable? I wanted to kill him! I still do! CALM DOWN. Tuesday looked like-did they say they were a dude or chick today? Riiight. A chick. So yeah, Tuesday looked she was about to rip Friday's head off. Monday looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her. I was trying to keep calm. I couldn't hear the movie and Friday and Saturday were seriously starting to get drunk. Thursday was watching them with curiosity and she looked like she was about to ask them for a bottle. Sunday was rolling his eyes and trying to ignore them. Speaking of him, I could've sworn I saw him watching me (for the most part) out of the corner of my eye. S-SHUT UP, NO I WASN'T. I couldn't pay attention to what we came here to do; see the movie. I started to drum my fingers on my leg, I was wearing these super comfy track pants. Saturday thinks my style is ugly and honestly, that is so offensive! I'm sick of everyone making fun of me! I want to kill myself. Take poison like Romeo, stab myself like Brutus, blow my brains out like literally every hard-core person out there! Wow, I suddenly feel like crying a river. WOW. YOU REALLY NEED MEDICATION, WEDNESDAY. I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR SO LONG BUT I'LL NEVER GET USED TO YOUR BIPOLAR-NESS. For a minute there, all you could hear were gulps and giggles. That's when shit went down. It didn't bother me back then but now it is just thinking about it! Why can't the others stay normal for a day? I want to die whenever I remember how crazy we are. I hate my life. I want to die. Day after day of craziness! Oh cruel fate, how dare you make me suffer so? Thou art a dasterdly creature! WHY MUST YOU GO ALL SHAKESPEARE ON ME SO RANDOMLY? Well basically, this is what happened after: Tuesday started yelling at how immature the two were being but the scolding was mainly directed at Friday. Monday squeaked and jumped off the couch as if it were on fire. I raised my eyebrow and smirked a bit. Thursday laughed and pointed. Saturday scoffed though she was smiling faintly. Sunday was watching silently, poker faced. Why were we acting like this? Because Friday had tried to get off the couch but somehow fell on Monday. Then he stumbled off her and tried to leave, probably to throw up in my bathroom. But he fell. Right on the coffee table. Popcorn, the TV remote and soda cans flew everywhere as Friday crushed them. It was funny for almost everyone, until the soda landed right on us. Cue cries of outrage from everyone. Monday and I got the worst of it. HA. It's a good thing Saturday got lucky or else she would yell at her ruined outfit and spaz out for Lord knows how long. Monday looked utterly crestfallen at her wet clothes and pouted. I couldn't help but laugh at the situation. "We really need to send you to rehab, man." I AGREE 100%. FRIDAY MUST BE STOPPED. Since it was my house, and since I'm usually the first one to react to things (if they're related to Friday at least. If it doesn't have to do with him then Tuesday is the first), I held out my hand and hauled the guy off my table. Thursday's a heavyweight. Friday…eh, no. Which sucks since he drinks so often. He only had, what, three bottles before he lost all sense of balance and now has to pay me $60 for my broken table?  
I patted his back. "I think you should get some rest." I pointed to the left. That's where the hallway is, which leads to the bedrooms. He nodded and was about to head over there... Then he threw up on me. It was nasty! It got all over me, especially my shirt. My mouth turned into a thin line and I took in a deep breath, which was dumb of me. I could taste a bit ot vomit because of that. Let me tell you, barf is not exactly something you would want to order on a restaurant menu. I gagged and quickly stepped back from the dude. He had done this before but c'mon, having someone leave their lunch on you is not something you can get used to. "Dude. Not cool." I sniffed my shirt. "Did you eat tacos last night?" He nodded and grinned lopsidedly. "Tacos are yummy!" is what I think he said but he actually said something along the lines of "Trcis er hurmay!" IT SOUNDED MORE LIKE "TRAKRS IR NURMAY" TO ME... Bits of barf flew from his mouth when he did that. Everyone looked either weary or disgusted at this point; 'cept for Thursday. Thursday laughed lightheartedly, she always finds Friday's drunken speech hilarious. "What's so funny?" he grumbled (or at least I think he did). He tried to walk towards her. All he managed to do was bang into me. He nearly knocked me over. It was awkward because his hand brushed against my you-know-what for a second. Thursday laughed harder. Sunday went from watching in silent amusement to looking angry for some reason. YOU'RE MORE OBSERVANT THAN I THOUGHT. DAMN YOU.  
I always wonder why no one helps me when Friday gets drunk. It just came to me now why no one does. The other five days like having clean shirts and balls that were not accidentally touched. Sometimes Thursday, Sunday or Monday help, but it's usually always me. 'SOMETIMES'? C'MON BRO, I ALSAYS HELP...MAYBE. Friday somehow became my responsibility, which is ridiculous since Thursday and Saturday know him best. He's cool, we all know each other, so I don't mind…for the most part. To be honest, all of us get annoyed with Friday a lot, but without him life would be a lot more boring. He's like the star of our group. He'd be the comedy relief, maybe even the main character of an anime; that's what Monday always says.  
Wowzers I'm starting to run out of time. I don't know why we can only write in here during our day, but eh. I probably should have stopped playing football and eating and do this, I'd have more time. All well. Okay so after that barf incident, I helped him clean up and I tucked him into bed. I was surprised to see that the others cleaned up the mess in the living room when I got back. Pretty sure Monday and Tuesday convinced the others. I CLEANED WITHOUT ANY PERSUASION, IDIOT. After that we gossiped about Friday for a bit. We ditched the movie and went outside and bought some food. Everyone but Friday and Sunday left a couple hours later. Sunday is still here now, he's downstairs. I'm in my room writing this, then he'll edit it. Poor guy, there'll be a lot of spelling mistakes I bet. YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT THAT. Friday is still asleep. He seriously needs to get a grip and stop with the dang alcohol. If we were normal, he would have ruined his liver for sure by this point.  
Dang flab it. I can hear it. He's waking up. Now he's running to somewhere… Oh. He better have actually made it in time and hope it landed in the toilet. I'm sick of cleaning up puke from the floor.  
Listen, I gotta go and help him. Sorry if this was boring, I'm still not sure what to write in here exactly. I'll figure it along the way I guess. And if you're reading this Sunday, thanks for fixing up my crap writing. YOU'RE WELCOME. IT'S NOT CRAP BY THE WAY. IT'S BETTER THAN I THOUGHT...  
Bye!

Hey! I've been waiting for so long to write in here, you have no idea. Now it's finally my turn! But the problem is I don't know what to write. Maybe I should've asked the others when I had the chance? I probably should have asked for help with this since I'm not that great at writing but oh well!  
Introductions are important. K so here I go! I'm the ghost of Christmas past. No, silly, I'm Thursday. Sorry if I fooled you there. I'm a day of the week. I also go by Dana Raymond. Isn't it such a pretty name? The great thing is, I got to pick it out! Dang, I'd hate to be stuck with a name for my whole short life (a century is nothing m'kay) and not even get to choose what it is. What if your name is Flurglefart Chinday? I met someone like that once. The man was really nice and he told me everyone at school used to make fun of him. I hugged him and told him that it was a beautiful name. I felt bad because I was lying. Doesn't it suck when you have to lie to make someone feel better? People say they'd rather be hurt by the truth than be comforted by a lie, but then you tell them the truth and they get really mad. Lying just makes everything easier. Flurglefart had a dog named Dot Parker. It was small and cute. I don't know dog breeds, sorry. I'm a cat person but even then I don't know much breed names. I need to stop saying the word 'names.' Tuesday says repetition ruins writing so I'll try and please you guys. No more repeated words!  
Everyone says I go on tangents but I don't think so. I have a lot to think about! This great big world is out there. I'm lucky so I get to discover its secrets for as long as I want! I need to sort out my thoughts, and there's a lot. They also say I have ADD. No way! I'm pretty sure days can't even suffer from that!  
…Can we? Wednesday is bipolar, Saturday is a narcissist, Tuesday has a superiority complex, Monday is depressed, Sunday is...well, he does stuff last minute. Is that a type of mental disorder? I should ask Tuesday what they think. Tuesday's human name is Emory so I just call them that. They change genders so quickly, I can't keep up! So I refer to as 'they,' 'Tuesday' or 'Emory.' Everyone should really use their human names more, they sound really pretty! I tell them to call me Dana but they're too used to Thursday and they never do. It's bad because sometimes they call me that in public. Strangers think we're some weird group with lame names for each other, or we're a cult or something. Ooh, ooh, one time, someone heard us call each other our real names, right? So guess what they did? Go on, guess, guess! Wait, you can't. Okay I'm going to assume you said something a few times so I'll continue. Well all your guesses are wrong! Oh shoot, repetition… I can't think of another word for 'guess' though! I should ask Tuesday to help me next time. We both have our names start with the letter 'T,' it's great! Friday and Saturday can't help me with this stuff so Emory is the next best bet!  
Oh right, the situation… So someone heard us call each other our real names. They pointed at us and we almost died when they started saying we were terrorists! The days of the week are our codenames and they; it was an old lady; yelled that we were going to blow up an embassy and get away with it because no one would know our true names! I laughed so hard hearing her, tears were in my eyes. Everyone else looked like they were going to poop their pants which made me keel over! The lady looked at me like I was crazy and started running down the street, saying she'd lock me up for good. She called me an alien and that she'd make sure the secret agency gets me!  
"And here I thought I was insane," Sunday muttered.  
"Is that lady really going to lock us up?" Monday whispered. Everyone shook their head and she sighed in relief.  
"That old hag needs to die already, the world doesn't need psychos," Saturday said.  
"I'm an alien! Yeeees!" I announced with glee.  
"May I suggest that that woman undergo a psych examination?" Tuesday mumbled to themself.  
"She scares me! I want to kill myself before she haunts my dreams!" Wednesday dramatically said. He was feeling sad during this time.  
"That was seriously trippy," Friday commented.  
We all glanced at each other and started speed walking back the way we came. We didn't want to take any risks. Over time we've had a lot of close calls. A few have figured out about us and it almost always didn't end pretty. Fun fact: We sleep like ordinary people! Another fun fact: If any of the other peeps tell you that they don't get nightmares from their past and wake up crying, shaking and sobbing and cradling themselves, trying to convince themselves that something like that will never happen again, they're lying.  
I would bet my lucky shoe that Tuesday spent their time writing about our past in here, or will soon. They're obsessed with all the dark stuff that happened back in the day and says we shouldn't forget what made us, us. But we don't want to remember. I also bet everyone but them wrote about the present, or modern times at least. Nothing too bad has happened in the twenty first century, that's why. Almost everyone has no more hard feelings for another, and the world isn't in turmoil. Life is good!  
One time I was hanging out with Saturday at a shopping mall. They was a lot of cute girls and I couldn't help but look at them. Why do malls always have hot people? Do wizards make a spell and lure them there so we can admire them? If so, then thank you wizards! You're almost as awesome as Harry Potter! Hmm, I wonder if they have a spell that allows them to see this? Hi wizards! How's life? It's rude to read on people's secret stuff! Leave! Are you gone yet? Good!  
Where was I? Oh yeah! Speaking about hot people...Saturday isn't sure what she likes. She knows guys for sure. Maybe she likes girls too. She doesn't know. She hates talking about it and tries to convince us she only wants the D. I don't see why. Nowadays no one cares. Friday and I knew our preferences for a long time. In case you didn't know, he's bi. Life was hard because of that, we got caught a few times, one time it lead to something huge to occur, but now no one cares who you like! Freedom to love as we please, hooray for modern society! Only for some countries though. That's really dumb. I believe in equality. I don't care what you do, as long as it's not illegal. Live your life the way you want! I noticed a lot of those popular pretty girls are all straight. That's not possible, there must be a few queer ones. Why hide it? Can the populars only be one orientation?  
Saturday is…Saturday. If you don't like mean negative people then you don't want to meet her (no offense Saturday!). If you're stuck with her you get used to it. Sometimes she's actually really nice but not very often. I talk to her a lot. She's fun to gossip with. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but recently (a few centuries ago) I also used to like her. I mean, like-like her. Something happened and now I don't. Did anyone ever tell you the new Saturday is a thousand times better than the old one? She's mean now but before she was truly evil. Something bad happened to her and she softened. It's not like she turned as nice as Monday though. A lot of unfortunate things has happened to us but this particular one hit her hard. If she wants to talk about when it's her turn then she can, I won't say any more; sorry, nosy reader! I'm sure Tuesday will eventually if Saturday doesn't.  
Back to what I was saying. Well, I don't know if I like her or not. You know about on/off crushes? I suffer from those. I saw a quote, it said that we never truly get over a crush, we just learn to…I forgot how the rest goes. Sometimes I feel fine and other times I feel funny. It feels poopy and I don't like it.  
But yeah, we stayed at the mall and I saw this really hot chick. Like dayum. Pretty blue eyes, tan skin, died bright blue hair, nice chest, heavy-ish makeup on fleek. It's been months but her face is still on my mind. The end. I didn't believe in love at first sight but now I don't know. You can't truly love someone without caring for their soul too, right? I know nothing about her so it's not possible. Just an infatuation. I hope. I think. I don't know!  
I want someone to like me. Well, Tuesday does. Ha, you thought I was oblivious about it? Nope! I have a gift when it comes to telling who has a crush on me. They blush all the time and stare at me. I find it cute. Speaking of Tuesday, they also used to more cruel. They're more quiet now but kinder. Why does misfortune have to be the reason to character development? Why can't something good happen to you and make you become a better person?  
You know what I noticed? Karma may or may not exist. I believe in a lot of things. Horoscopes for example. Oh guess what! I think instead of just your month and day of birth determining your personality, your day of the week does too! Okay reader, think of the day you were born. Know what it is? Good! Now think about us. Does your personality and their personality match? I met a nice girl named Elizabeth. She was born on Friday and she was just as crazy as Friday! See! It can't be coincidence! But yeah, karma and stuff. I mean, think about it. Wonder why bad things happen to good people? It's because I think that no matter how we live our life, an equal amount of good and bad experiences will be distributed throughout our lives. It's like ying and yang. So does karma truly exist or are we merely experiencing yet another bad moment, coincidentally, soon after we committed some sort of sin?  
I wonder how you would measure moments. Could I say -100M if someone's life was bad? 50M if someone's life was pretty good?  
You know what makes me mad? People who say things will never get better. Or don't believe in magic. But seriously peeps, things do get better. I should know, I've lived a long time and I've gone through some bad stuff. You know what, I might as well say some of them since you're probably curious. Not in detail though, or I'll remember. I don't want that. Rape, beaten, experimented on, tortured, put in a concentration camp, sacrificed to ancient gods, robbed, held captive, abused by humans and days of the day alike, had hundreds of people I care about die, etc. I thought it'd never get better. Guess what? It did. Think of something bad that happened to you a few years ago. You were worrying about it and thought your life was over. Now you have new problems and probably haven't given much thought to it. This cycle will repeat itself. Don't kill yourself. I lost good friends to suicide. In a way, they're lucky they can tske the easy way out. I had to endure it, whether I wanted to or not. I want to talk more about this but now I'm getting sad. Moving on! I'll try and give hope to you reader, I bet you need it. Someday I will. Remind me. Wait, you can't. Maybe you can. Try and send me a message telepathically! Send me a letter if you somehow find out my address! I'll be waiting. I want to help people. There's got to be a reason we're immortal right? I also believe everything happens for a reason. I also think something out there exists, some sort of deity, some sort of powerful, influential force. I want to spread hope to people. My fear is that others will die when I could have prevented it.  
I want unicorns to exist. Don't you?  
They say laughter helps you live longer. How does that work? They say be kind to everyone you meet. I agree with that but then again I don't. The more selfish you are, the happier you'll be. Selflisness leads to becoming a doormat. Dear kids: DON'T BE A DOORMAT. Dr. Thursday here with some breaking news. Do what makes you happy and forget what others say. You have one short life to live, make it count. Don't exist; live. Grasp firmly onto that seed of hope deep inside you and let it grow! It will become a beautiful flower. While you water it and bring it the sunlight it craves, it will also help you notice the luminousity from the window the flower is perched on. Killing two birds with one stone, right? Did my little writing thing make sense? I hope so. Actually, I hope not. If you want to be considered a good writer, you have to write things no one understands but manages to sounds good. Did it confuse you but sound pretty?  
What I wrote, is that a metaphor or a simile? Why not call them the same thing? Why is English so dumb? The spelling is dumb. The letter C is dumb. I want it gone from the alphabet. All it does is make spelling confusing. Why not spell 'carcass' like 'karkass' and 'circle' like 'sirkle'? I wanted to make my own language for a long time but then I heard about Esperanto and dropped the idea. It still didn't stop me from making my own alphabet though! No, not a new language. It's English but with different letters. Now I can write down insults towards the others and they'll have no idea what it says! It's great! Once I wrote on Friday's hand in permanent marker that he was a butthead in my alphabet and he had no clue! I was laughing the whole day! It took me a few days to learn it and it was worth it.  
I'm bored. Why does writing start off as so much fun and then become so boring? Just when I was getting into it and going to get philosophical again, I'm suddenly uninterested! Curse you, wizards and unknown deities!  
Actually I'll write more. Why does seeing something affect you so much? Why does hearing music make you so happy? Why does our moods change so quickly? Why do we exist? We're like a food web. We eat away at each other like animals do in the wild. We use each other and continue on, and then someone does it to the one who betrayed you. In this world the bad overruns the good, that's why people feel so sad and hopeless. The good exists, you just got to look for it. Find your flower and make it grow, find the sunlight!  
Shakespeare had the right idea. Making the mood of the play affect the weather. I noticed that almost always, when someone I knew died, it was raining. I think there's a lot of hidden symbolism that the deities show to us. Once I made fun of Monday. Soon after I kept on having cold things touch me. Water went down my shirt, someone threw a snowball at me, and I was stuck outside and my skin turned cold. This symbolises my cold heart, I know it did! Once I apologized hot things started to touch me. Representing that I'm warmhearted after all. If you kook hard enough, you can find hidden messages in anything and everything that happens to you. Falling down and landing in a puddle? Maybe it's showing how you made a mistake and the water, the guilt, is drenching you, covering you whole and making your thoughts full of just that. ("I'm wet as heck!" "I need to get home and change!" "The guilt is reaching me down the bone!" "I need to get home and change, fix my mistake and ease this burden off my subconscious!")  
I hate it when people judge by appearances. Everyone thinks I'm dumb. I'm not. Haven't I proved it with what I just said? Only you yourself can judge you because you have seen everything. Unless you're with that person 24/7 for their whole life, how can you judge? People act differently around their friends, their family, their enemies, strangers, and themselves. Never assume anything. Ever.  
And now I'm bored again.  
I was planning on making a long paragraph before I leave but I'm too lazy to. I'll let you be stuck with this final sentence, and you can interpret any way you want. Is there a hidden meaning behind it or not? If so, what is it? Can there be more than one message? Here it is:  
I like ponies.


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